Something of no interest to anyone what so ever

In order to post a little something tonight in order to keep the momentum of the blog going I have randomly selected an old post from the past which is probably complete gibberish. But I am tired and need some sleep and maybe a few days of sunshine, but I may have to depend on the Gods for that one. . . . . . not the sleep I can manage that fine.

So here is an old post and one with a hidden message hidden within it . . . . I know no one paid much attention to the hidden message the first time round either.

     


THERE'RE BACK . . . . . . Well when I say back I’m not entirely sure they have been here before although Mr Jones says they have, and he knows these things even though the general view is he is as mad as a hatter.  Yes last night after going to bed what should start happening but those lights again a rather strange and eerie glow round the house, and despite me getting up to investigate I could not work out what it was. Then as I decided to return to bed who should I spot hiding in the shrubs watching the lights but Mr Jones, it is not like Mr Jones to hide he is usually running about naked with his large sign saying I am your Friend; as I have said many times before.   But it appears that on this occasion the aliens are according Mr Jones seriously unfriendly aliens known as the Rat people (from Eaglefleebite 7) who look like twenty five foot long Rats. Well that sounds unfriendly to me, apparently they eat all your skirting boards at night plus your legs and maybe your nose and will chew the odd finger too. So if you wake up in the morning with no skirting board a chewed nose and the odd limb missing you will know it was the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 led by their notorious leader Big Boris.

I would like to reassure the public that the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 are not the same as the members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) who do not go about eating the  skirting boards in folks houses so don't start shouting at us and throwing stuff at us like cheese (not unless it is a good strong cheddar). Us members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) have enough problems with our own arch enemy the CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) who start terrible rumours that we make stuff up and exaggerate and that my diary is nonsense and that there is a really boring explanation for all the lights at night and that a twenty five foot long Rat Person from Eaglefleebite 7  would not fit through the front door of the average house so it is unlikely to eat skirting boards and that at best it would be a ordinary mouse that say a cat (as in a real fluffy cat) got bored with and gave it a few minutes to try and escape before biting its head off. You see those CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) have no imagination and will never get to meet huge rat based alien life forms with pointy teeth from Eaglefleebite 7 that eat folk, and they will live to regret that one day . . . . . . .  . . . . . I think?

Alien Spiders from Mars . . . (The Ziggystardium)

It has been some time since we have seen Mr Jones the alien hunter so it was a surprise to see him peering into the Ghost Writers car about lunch time. It appears that unknown to the Ghost Writer his car has become an incubator for a particular race of spider like aliens from Mars which Mr Jones says are called the Ziggystardium. The ghost writer himself is not too bothered and says they can stay there for now, but Mr Jones went OOOOooooooooooooooooo.

According to Mr Jones they will quickly grow into huge things and are not friendly and will probably suck the brains out of the Ghost Writers head, something aliens have a habit of doing quite a lot.  The Ghost Writer says that his brains were sucked out years ago so YA SUCKS BOO, but Mr Jones says that he will regret saying that when he is trapped in a traffic jam on the M6 with his head covered in aliens and a policeman knocking on his side window. 

The Predictability of our own Future, Fate and other Things . . . . . The Big Question

I was quietly minding my own business as I do When I was asked Are you the chap who answers those Big Questions and my answer was Maybe or Maybe not Why and they said well I was wondering about stuff, sort of what's it all about How come I'M here now and not sat on a hot beach, just how do we end up being us and STUFF.

Don’t you just hate it when strangers ask you questions like that but to be fair they do have a point because what we are and what we do are rather fragile things indeed. Many of us may think we are in control of our destiny but are we.  Starting back at the beginning we are born, a genetic throw of the dice by two people who may or may not have plans to produce children. And once in the world we are in the hands of others who may or may not help kick start us on our way to fame fortune and adventure. Here in the West we have the advantage of school, but a personality clash with a teacher or another pupil or any number of things can change what we learn and what qualifications we get. Which in turn can send us on any number of unknown options and lock us out of many many more.  What we do can depend on if we live in a town or in the country and that can be down to family and all sorts of things.

So at what point do we finally get to take total control of our destiny, well I’m afraid we never really do. It may appear that some do but the fact is even those right at the top are there due to thousands if not millions of interlinked events that have created the world around us.  Some of these events are things done by others, some are things that happen by accidents of fate, like winning the lottery, meeting someone in a shop or café or the zoo.

Of course we can do some things to steer our lives in the general direction we wish to go and sometimes it can work out as planned a bit like leaping about in front of the very nice Steven Spielberg’s bedroom window naked shouting Hello Handsome . . . Although sometimes these little things we do to steer our lives in the direction we wish to go have unforeseen side effects that lead down new unpredicted paths. Such as running down a road naked pursued by large dogs and several police cars, leading to the theft a bicycle which by a stroke of luck has a friend of Mr Jones the Alien Hunter in the basket and for twenty five pounds and the use of a mobile makes the bike fly over a small forest to safety.   Strangely national governments try and do stuff to steer things in the direction they wish things to go and have very similar problems, but are seldom saved by aliens on bicycles who are friends of Mr Jones.

So just remember we all start equal for about 10 seconds then it is 85% luck and 15% our own efforts, so be as nice as you can to everyone because who is to say that but for the hand of  fate you could be them and they could be you. 

Are you going to meet an Alien. . . The Big Question Answered.

It is time to tackle one of those big questions which I now do as part of my life as a Professional Blogger. It a grand life being a Professional Blogger now that the money is starting to roll in, it’s a bit of a surprise and beats working for a living. I did not realise my fellow bloggers were on to such a good thing. . . . . .

Anyway I had a thought the other day; I have yet to meet an Alien as in a real one. Yes I know Mr Jones has met loads but I think he tends to think anything that moves in the woods at night is an Alien particularly if it’s tall silver and has flashing lights and a death ray.  But the reality is most rational folk don’t see Aliens, and one needs to ask the big question WHY?

The first question we need to ask is are there Aliens out there in the vast voids of space that are intelligent enough to make spacecraft and therefore give us a fighting chance of bumping into one another. Well Yes there are loads of them, however there are other issues involved that make what should be a reasonable thing to happen, actually happen. Two great civilizations from different planets meeting shaking hands, legs or tentacles and then attempting to kill one another (its what intelligent life sort of does).  

So why has it not happened and the incredibly boring answer is pure and simply down to maths, physics and distance.  The Universe is big very very big. We as in planet Earth are out on the outskirts of it in a rather boring bit of the Milky Way which in itself is not that exciting. The Milky Way being just another Galaxy among millions of the things. If each Galaxy contained just one super intelligent lifeform there would be millions and yet the chances of meeting are as good as Zero.

There is yet another issue time (you know what I said about time) well the Universe is said to be 13.8 plus billion years old so far and let’s say has at least another 1000 billion years to go before you know what happens. . . . . . YICKS.  So the odds of two intelligent lifeforms turning up at the same time on different planets close enough for them to meet are so remote that we can say it amounts to Zero. So we now have Zero times Zero chance of meeting an Alien.

And its gets worse because the distances involved mean that even travelling at the speed of light it would take longer that any sort of Alien is likely to live. This is not helped by the fact that a spacecraft could not travel at the speed of light or even remotely close because space is full of dust and stuff. And at those sorts of speed one tiny grain of dust would destroy the spacecraft.  So the chances of an Alien lifeform making a suitable spacecraft are almost Zero. . . So Zero times Zero times Zero . . . .  In other words Mr Jones’s Tall Silvery creature with wings, flashing lights and a death ray is not an Alien but something else.  

Ooooo I worked out how the Earth will be destroyed the other day. That is I thought of the idea the other day not that Earth was destroyed the other day.          

A life in the sky is fraught with peril

No1  . . .Chocks Away

No2 . . . Roger

No1 . . . Who's Roger

No2 . . . What?

No1 . . .Who is Roger

No2 . . . He's not real, its what a chap says

No3 . . . Has Roger got the chocolates

No1 . . . What?

No2 . . . What?

No3 . . . Who has the chocolates

No1 . . . No one has any chocolates

No3 . . . You mentioned Choc's

No1 . . . NO not choc's. Chocks they are those little wooden wedges in front of the wheels on the airfield.

No3 . . . OK. . . Roger

No4 . . . Yes

No1 . . . Sorry No4 what are you asking

No4  . . . Someone said Roger

No1 . . . I thought we have established Roger is not real and he does not have any Chocolates

No4 . . . But my name is Roger

No1 . . . But No2 told me you were not real

No2 . . . Roger means OK I have understood your message, not Roger.

No3 . . . So has Roger got any Chocolates

No1 . . . NO ONE HAS any Chocolates

No4 . . . Yes I do

No3 . . . What kind of chocolates Roger

No4 . . . Milk Tray

No2 . . . I dont like Milk Tray, thats a bit unfair.

No1 . . . Does it matter, we are all in different aircraft sharing is not really practical.

No4 . . . I dont mind sharing

No1 . . . OK Roger I'll have the one in the gold foil.

No4 . . . AH DAMN I have just eaten that one.

No 3 . . . Roger has started eating the chocolates

No2 . . . I dont care I dont like Milk Tray so he can eat them all as far as I'm concerned.

No1 . . . OK look I'll share my ice cream then

No2 . . . WHAT?

No3 . . . WHAT?

No4 . . . Tally Ho

No1 . . . What? no its just a plain vanilla wafer. . . .

Plane . . . . . HAH HAH HA HAHAH HAhah ah ahah ha ha ha h ahah hah ah ahha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah a ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha haah ah ah ah ah ahaha ha

    

A useful Guide to the Athletes in the Commonwealth Games (sort of)

Tomorrow Wednesday sees the official start of the Commonwealth Games, a games which we now know will be infiltrated by Aliens from a variety of planets who have their own agenda.  Now I can hear you all ask well exactly how are we going to know if someone has been taken over by an alien? It is not as clear cut as it might seem. Lets face it you are not going to see a strange creature emerging out of the stomach of the winner of the one hundred metres as they cross the finish line. Waving its many arms about in celebration and demanding the National Anthem of the federation of Betamax three.

You see what you need to look for is very subtle, the best indicator that someone is actually an Alien will be the following, use this useful list to keep an eye out for suspects. When I say eye out DO NOT try and remove your eye, its one of those silly sayings again.

1          They will look entirely like an ordinary human being

2         They  are keen on tight fitting lycra or similar material  

3        They do like bling sporty shoes, if you see gold or silver then it’s a dead cert they are alien

4       The likelihood is they are faster longer taller shorter stronger lighter heavier than us normal human beings

5        They smile a lot because they know they are going to win

6        They will probably win. . . . . . When they win they will grab a flag and run about with it in a sort of HEY LOOK I'M NOT AN ALIEN . . . HONEST sort of way. They are Aliens for sure.

7     If things do not go to plan they may throw stuff about, shout a lot or eat passing officials, again this is a sure sign they are Aliens.

8        Some aliens have a thing about spots, if you see anyone wearing outfits with spots then they are ALIENS. The same is true of stripes but they prefer spots.

 So armed with this useful (short and concise) Rough Guide to Aliens it should be easy to spot Aliens during the Commonwealth Games and support your favourite.

And remember it is bad form to shout TAKE ME TO YOU LEAPER as the triple jumpers are just about to set off.

    

Somehow this made me think of President Putin

The Problems of Writing a Modern Diary

So here we are again another day in the life of the diary of Rob Z Tobor which has been ticking along now since 15^th August 2010 (the diary not me). I know it’s a long long long time and if you have been reading it for all that time you will probably say it seems much much longer, as you plough through page after page after page of stuff.

Of course diaries are not what they were back in the old days when Samuel Pepys could write about things such as Plague, pestilence, the burning down of London, royals being beheaded. Chaps discovering places such as America or the fabled North West Passage around the Isle of White or small islands full of unknown tribes to wipe-out and steal all their stuff such as the Isle of White.

These days we are left with Mr Jones running about naked attempting to communicate with Aliens in the Woods, Zombies being attacked by little old ladies for sitting on the wrong seat on the bus, Androids and Vampires playing football as they hunt for The Holy Grail. A goat getting catapulted into the local supermarket on a regular basis, a faulty Weather Machine and a grumpy Ghost Writer. Quite frankly it is no wonder the very nice Steven Spielberg has no interest in making the film of the book of the blog diary of Rob Z Tobor.

So I feel I need to find things more suitable to write about that will make Mr Spielberg sit up and take notice, something where he will say . . . . . Hang ON I haven’t done a film about that before. . . . .

So what did I do today . . . I cut grass . . . . DAMN that’s not a good start is it, although some of it was quite long grass?  

Mr Jones is a bit disappointed today as it turns out the Lizard Men of Titan are in fact Lizards and their spacecraft an old copper hot water tank, (still an easy mistake to make).

D is for Digging, Dinosaurs and Deep Space

 Today was rather a nice day and I was sort of acquisitioned to dig a small veggie bed for runner beans. But instead of the simple task of lift some turf fork over the ground add some compost and hay presto Uncle Fred is Uncle Fred, it got rather complicated. You see just under the surface a few inches was an ancient old cobbled surface that must have been really old. Mr Jones who can sniff out anything that might have alien origins was there in an instant, peering down at the surface of rough cobble and herring bone stone and declared that it was obviously alien as it was far to rough for a wheeled vehicle and was probably built by aliens in a hurry as long ago as the time of the dinosaurs.

His theory is that Aliens from Deep Space arrived on Earth and attempted to communicate with a huge Tyrannosaurus Rex that was doing its best to eat a large Aardvark. However Dinosaurs are not the best of communicators with aliens particularly when the aliens are using a huge Hammond organ to play songs at them.  Now as we all know the  Tyrannosaurus Rex is a seriously grumpy beast and even more so when strange folk from deep spacce turn up in a big silver disc playing music while you are trying to eat an Aardvark. So (and this is Mr Jones theory not mine, I’m not mad) while eating, the Tyrannosaurus Rex also tried to take a bite out of the large silver disc but ended up choking to death, they were stupid dinosaurs.   The Aliens then think AH DAMN We Better Scarper, but finding the ground too soft to takeoff are forced into making a large rough cobble and herring bone stone surface as a take off platform, to be able to effectively use their Magnetic Iron Particle Beam Anti Gravity Propulsion Unit to get away quick before someone thought they were trying to kill everyone and take over the planet.

It also explains why even to this day many aliens turn up inside huge scary mechanical monster looking things as they are all convinced they will meet a very grumpy Tyrannosaurus Rex based life form that goes around fighting and killing stuff all the time. . . . . . . . . HANG ON that last bit sounds familiar.

C is for the Curious Case of the Computer Update

Late last night myself and Mr Jones dressed up in camouflage armed ourselves with pointy sticks and a selection of large blue blocks that Mr Jones said were his secret weapon and ventured out into the night to defend Earth from the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7. Mr Jones said if we could catch Big Boris and entice him into eating some of the blue blocks then it was game over.  Of course the best laid plans of mice and men or should I say RATs (as in Radical Abstract Thinkers) and men never go to plan (it is another stupid saying), and the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 did not turn up there was not a single light anywhere to be seen. Mr Jones said it was very annoying and also extremely curious indeed.

On the subject of curious things, what did happen last night which most folk would not think about much was my trusty old PC did a Windows Update. OK I can hear you all type, SO WHAT, but this old PC runs Windows XP the now dead operating system which I recently rallied round to support with my We Love XP campaign . . . . Keep Windows XP Undead. . . . 

I had started to think my efforts were scratching uselessly at the Big Gates (affectionately nick named Bill) of the huge Microsoft corporate body, but maybe not. Could it be that a member of the almost unheard of elitist Keep Windows XP Undead Gorilla Movement has gnawed their way through the skirting boards unseen and in the best tradition of Moles now sits at the heart of the Microsoft organisation?  Sticking their head above ground to create another little mound for us to scoop up before vanishing back underground to hide in the labyrinth of dark tunnels (Microsoft really should spend more money on lighting up those corridors.

 Of course if the elitist member of the Keep Windows XP Undead Gorilla Movement sticks his head above ground for too long folk will say things like . . . . . . . . .  What is Brian from Software Development doing eating the skirting boards . . . . . .and . . . . . . O my god have you seen the large deposit he has left on the lawn. You don’t think maybe he has turned into one of those Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7.

Anyway this is long enough now for a daily diary entry so I will go leaving you with the following questions.

Is Brian one of the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 rather than a Mole? . . . . . They look similar

Is Windows XP still one of the Undead?  . . . . . . . . (WELL COOL)

Will Big Boris return tonight?

Why did a man called Mr Gates call his operating system Windows, does he have a buildings fetish? 

Why would some mad bloke start working his way through the Alphabet all over again? 

B is for Big Boris is Back and he is not alone

THERE'RE BACK . . . . . . Well when I say back I’m not entirely sure they have been here before although Mr Jones says they have, and he knows these things even though the general view is he is as mad as a hatter.  Yes last night after going to bed what should start happening but those lights again a rather strange and eerie glow round the house, and despite me getting up to investigate I could not work out what it was. Then as I decided to return to bed who should I spot hiding in the shrubs watching the lights but Mr Jones, it is not like Mr Jones to hide he is usually running about naked with his large sign saying I am your Friend; as I have said many times before.   But it appears that on this occasion the aliens are according Mr Jones seriously unfriendly aliens known as the Rat people (from Eaglefleebite 7) who look like twenty five foot long Rats. Well that sounds unfriendly to me, apparently they eat all your skirting boards at night plus your legs and maybe your nose and will chew the odd finger too. So if you wake up in the morning with no skirting board a chewed nose and the odd limb missing you will know it was the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 lead by their notorious leader Big Boris.

I would like to reassure the public that the Rat People of Eaglefleebite 7 are not the same as the members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) who do not go about eating the  skirting boards in folks houses so don't start shouting at us and throwing stuff at us like cheese (not unless it is a good strong cheddar). Us members of RATs (the Radical Abstract Thinkers) have enough problems with our own arch enemy the CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) who start terrible rumours that we make stuff up and exaggerate and that my diary is nonsense and that there is a really boring explanation for all the lights at night and that a twenty five foot long Rat Person from Eaglefleebite 7  would not fit through the front door of the average house so it is unlikely to eat skirting boards and that at best  would be a ordinary mouse that say a cat (as in a real fluffy cat) got bored with and gave it a few minutes to try and escape before biting its head off. You see those CATs (the Common Average Thinkers) have no imagination and will never get to meet huge rat based alien life forms with pointy teeth from Eaglefleebite 7 that eat folk, and they will live to regret that one day . . . . . . .  . . . . . I think?

Sorry I'm late for the A to Z. . .(A is for Aliens)

Well I am back writing my diary after my blogging adventure of writing nonsense poetry about Aardvarks, which has been described as similar that that of Vogon Poetry, well that is not very nice is it.  Although interestingly enough the mention of the Vogons brings us to some real life events of which you do not know, you see late in the evening well after midnight there have been lights in the woods.  No not little twinkly lights like fairy lights or torches but big lights sort of light up half a forest sort of lights. We have been speculating what these lights might be, Mr Jones of course says it is alien spacecraft maybe even the mothership (you never get father ships). Now folk have laughed at this and say he is a nutter,  but he has a good point because it is clearly not Zombies because one thing I do know about Zombies is the are not keen on bright lights certainly not ones that will fry half a million moths at a time, because Zombies are light sensitive.  Folk have suggested other hypnosis’s as to why; but to tell the truth they are exceedingly boring and Steven Spielberg is hardly likely to make a boring film (AH hang on he was conned by those sneaky horses).  No he needs a high action block buster about an eccentric in cyberspace to get him back on track and to boost the flagging street cred . . . .  its not his fault, we all get old and lose our way.

AH YES lose our way that reminds me, only a short while ago two small children (OK they were teenagers . . . but not COOL ones) walked up our drive way and asked if I knew where they were as they were lost.  As it happened I did know where I was because I was at home; it appears they were heading to a camp site, but were not sure which one or what is was called. Having given the situation much thought I sent them on there way to what is probably  the right place as they knew they had to cross a mine field (sorry I mean field) and past the old mine where the dragons live (OK they are small invisible dragons. . . honest). Anyway that is about it for tonight. If I remember what else has happened I will tell you (and me) about it before I forget again.

What’s that Skippy some small teenage walkers have fallen down the mine shaft and been eaten by aliens . . . . . HAH HAHAHH AH Haha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha h a hah ah ah aha ha ha hahha haha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ha . . . . . . . . . . I'm sure that Skippy pushes folk into mine shafts…. I cant blame him. 

Aliens, Computers and Loud Bangs and the Ghost Writer

Hello all sorry for the slight break in posts but I did say I was planning to slow up after reaching the 1000^th blog post (one of the outlets of my diary). There are reasons for this however involving both myself and the Ghost Writer.

In my case it all started on Wednesday night not long after I had written my diary entry. You see I had popped outside to put some cat food out on the front patio for the unknown beast that turns up, I really don’t know what it is but it well freaks the cats out and also seems to eat cat food, only it is a cunning beast and I am yet to catch a glimpse of the thing. Time will tell, I will eventually find out what this strange critter is with its pointy large claws and mad howls out in the woods. Anyway while I was out I looked up into the sky and thought what a clear sky it is tonight and it really was one of the clearest in a long time. We are lucky here because it is dark and we get to see the stars and on really clear nights the line across the sky formed by the Milky Way. So there I was looking up into the sky thinking WELL COOL when I noticed something flickering above the woods, then it suddenly moved, well that was a shock and at first I thought I was wrong but then it suddenly moved a bit more. It then moved up and down in quick jerky movements and occasionally from side to side, while it seemed to have flickering lights that may have been rotating. Luckily Mrs Ghost Writer was visiting and so I asked her to come and witness the UFO I had seen as no one was ever going to believe any of us lot. So she came out all sort of sceptical and looked at the flickering light which was still again, but luckily it then starting moving in quick short jerky movements again.. . . . . . . So just for once I have a real witness to a UFO; OK only the second one I have ever seen myself and as for the first one I don’t think I should tell you about that one because well you will not believe me.

As a result of this however I have been on a long alien hunt with Mr Jones who is very annoyed I got to see the UFO and he did not; and says that he's out most nights chasing aliens and the one night he stays in they turn up to see him. As he says No wonder folk don’t get decent pictures or evidence aliens are sneaky. Anyway we have been off in the woods and busy, but saw nothing except the Lemmings of Petrograd and the dodo’s who are still making catapults; you see what happens when the dog goes off to visit the Pope.

Now I did say reasons and the other is that the Ghost Writer, a key part of my diaries production as a real entity in the real world (well cyberspace) has been rather involved with other stuff. Firstly he was trying to do things for his work but at home, apparently it is what IT folk can do at times, but he had password problems, software problems and other problems that meant he was rather preoccupied. Then as a final straw the power supply on his old PC (he is like me he likes old PC’s)  blew up, he says it was as if it had been hit by a laser from an alien spacecraft, one big flash and it was a goner.  He is however rather resourceful and has got his old PC working again, although it now has the wrong power supply in it, and the result is the main power lead comes in the side of the PC so he needs to cut a hole in the side panel, and the whole thing is at present held together with string, bits of tape and wood screws. This is not what IT guru’s are meant to do they are meant to have techy looking high spec computers, not a scrap yard device that makes hissing noises.

OK finally . . . . . . . . . .

Today we have been helping Mrs E formally Miss I in her charity shop because we are jolly decent chaps and the like, and do our bit. . . . . . . . . sort of.

OK that’s it I’m off now although I am sorry, but I have used an old picture again because time has been full of things happening so drawing has taken a back seat so to speak  . . . . . . Another silly saying if you ask me as I am generally in the back seat and would therefore be able to draw. Only I was not this time, but I might have been, although I was not. . . . .  

The Fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence and a quite look back at the past

It continues to rain here rather a lot and the ground is well and truly saturated, the fabled minor stream of inconsequence that runs behind our house and off into the wood must be at least a good 12 to 18 inches deep and almost three feet wide. This means that it still only counts as a minor stream of inconsequence which bearing in mind all the rain and flooding in Britain is rather good when you live in a bungalow.

I really should write loads more but am going to do a sneaky and tell you what I wrote way back on Friday, 28 October 2011 . . . (why I hear you type, well I’m lazy and its wet and dark and the middle of winter).

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . . . . . .. .

The new house is right at the far end of the wood, right at the end of a thin ribbon of wood that follows the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence, the source of which is right next to our new house. So me and the dog thought it was time to take a little trip to explore. There were two reasons for this. The first was that it has been a very quiet day; the second reason is I really can’t believe you wish to hear about boxes again.

The third reason is it has been rather nice and sunny today an excellent time to explore woods (I sound like Monty Python now). So three reasons why I was in the woods, although the forth one would be that the sequel to the blockbuster movie of the book; (book one) based on this, book two, so far is full of boxes, and that is not a good plot. So four reasons why no one expects the Spanish Inquisition….. Mum has said you know what again, sorry mum however I have thought of a fifth reason……. No only kidding.

 In the woods the trees are all loosing there leaves and many animals are hibernating such as Hedgehogs, Bears, Beavers, The Lemmings of Petrograd, The Dark Creature of the Undergrowth and Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank always gets hibernating and flying south for the winter mixed up, which is an easy thing to do according to mum and dad, but I think they are being nice. But it is cheaper for Uncle Frank to hibernate in the wood than spend all winter partying in Ibiza

We had a long wander through the woods, the dog destroying yet another catapult made by the Dodo’s. He says it will be the last of the year as they have turned their attention to building a Jacuzzi (otherwise known as a hot tub) to keep them cosy over the winter months.  This is the result of them getting to read a Woman’s Own magazine left in the wood by a camper. Yes you see the consequences of leaving your rubbish in the countryside. The repercussions of these acts are not always easy to predict, so please ensure you always clear all your rubbish and dispose of it correctly. Thank you.

Dam it distracted again; we made it to the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence and as was discussed last time (Yes you do need to pay attention) we found evidence of the Madman of the Woods, we even thought we heard the distant call of the wild; HAR HAR HARDY HA HAR a sound with a familiar ring to it. The dog even found prints of a strange animal in the muddy banks of the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence a strange creature with six legs …………. …………. Mmmmmmmmmm.

Anyway it got dark and we had to return home as we were all visiting a particularly famous old lady of Monty who is ninety nine today; and it is not the done thing not to visit. So we did. I did say she was not to run about in the night singing in the street and climbing lamp posts. Mum said IDIOT which I thought was a bit harsh after all she is 99 ……….. AH apparently she was referring to me. 

I have a friend, called Mr Jones.

Who is famous for his, scary groans.

And likes to wear, a pointy hat.

While dancing with, the vampire bat.

And in the middle of the night.

He will knock on doors, to give you a fright.

But at Halloween, he is in the wood

To shout TRICK OR TREAT at …………  Robin Hood.

HA HAH HAHAHH hahah hah hahhah hahhahhah hahahah hha ha ha hah hah hahah.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .

OK back to 2014 yes a lot of time has passed; the dog is still with the Pope I think, teaching him stuff about the Romans and Greeks and the little old lady died having reached 101. And I gave up spelling DAMN like DAM because folk thought I was silly and they did not see the ironic dark humour of a large wall holding back all that water. Since spelling DAMN correctly all that water is now all outside and I think that says everything. . . . . 

AH I may have to use an old picture tonight also . . . . . .DAM . . . . . HAH AH HAH AH HAH AH HA HAH HA HAHHAH haha ha ha hah ha ha ha ha.  

Gosh I have written a lot of rubbish in the last few years……

The return of Mrs Ghost Writer . . . . . and the aliens

It turned out Mrs Ghost Writer was moved to another ward last night that was a bit odd, it appeared even the nurses that pushed her bed down to the ward said good luck as they left. It turned out that no one actually spoke to her when she arrived and in the little bay she was in there was a chap, an agency nurse? who just sat in the ward all night, he it turned out was the sort of minder of a 95 year old patient in the corner. The thing was she hated men and would swear at him very loudly and threaten to report him if he did not get her things and the like. But I think the fact he just sat in the middle of the bay all night in a chair eating packets of crisps sort of made it hard for the others to sleep, plus why would a 95 year little old lady need a minder.

Then in the morning Mrs Ghost Writer was told that Mr Ghost Writer had been contacted about picking her up, but he had not, so when he arrived at visiting time in the middle of the afternoon it turned out they had both been sitting about waiting for about three hours, when they could have gone home. Mrs Ghost Writer mentioned this to one of the staff who implied that it was not uncommon for the ward sister to tell folk she had contacted family members to pick patients up when she had not…..

Then later Mr Jones was complaining that while I was distracted by all this going on he had been talking with aliens that had landed behind us in the woods, but because I had not actually seen the alien spacecraft the police did not believe him.  As you know Mr Jones does believe that aliens need to see humans in the nude in order to understand what we are about. But by standing on our roof in the nude waving at the sky in full view of the road can attract the attention of the local police among others, so without a witness he got fined (again).

Stargazing Live, Professor Brian Cox, Dara O Briain and the classic film The Day of the Triffids..

Today has been one of those rare days that we seldom see at present it has been sunny and not windy although there is still plenty of water about in fields and on the roads and other places where water would normally not be on mass. I have armed everyone I can with pointy sticks to protect us from the possible invasion by the Toad People from the Planet Todimimiun 3. It may well be that tonight will be stage one of their attack using the cunning tactics of the intelligent intergalactic reptile mind, you see they plan to use distraction to start with followed by an idea they have picked up from the classic old 1962 film . . . . .  The Day of the Jackal  . . . hang on that’s not right I mean the classic old 1962 film. . . . . The Day of the Triffids.   You see tonight is the third and last night of Stargazing Live where Professor Brian Cox and his sidekick  Dara O Briain  who we know are in cahoots with the Toad People from the Planet Todimimiun 3 because of the Brian connection to  Aliens; (if you are confused you really need to read yesterdays diary entry) even Briain is almost Brian so enough said me thinks………

You see on stargazing live there was much talk of the aurora borealis being rather spectacular tonight and possibly visible from the UK about midnight.  If you all remember it was the lights that made everyone blind in . . . The Day of the Triffids after which they were eaten by the Triffids.

All this is far too much of a coincidence and it should be remembered that Toads and Aliens much prefer to attack their prey at night. So my advice is if you see the aurora borealis (due as I said sometime around midnight) then you are likely to be attacked and eaten by the Toad People of Todimimiun 3, but they are all called Brian so confuse them first by shouting something like look out Brian. SIR Patrick Moore is behind you then stab at them with your pointy stick or hit them with your telescope if all else fails.  And remember to wear dark sunglasses if you do see the aurora borealis, or the Toad People will get you for sure.

Oooooo yes talking of the foreshore I have a feeling that Toads like the Triffids do not like salt water so make sure if the alien invasion gets underway to watch the film The Day of the Triffids, the 1962 one not one of the rubbish remakes that will only confuse you; and keep a pointy stick handy. . . . .

OK chaps it is every man for himself so Tally Ho and the best of luck, if all goes to plan we will be eating toad pie for the rest of the year. . . . . . . . . YUM . . . . . no hang on YUCK . . . 

Rain, Stargazing Live, Professor Brian Cox and the Toad People of Todimimiun 3

It has been wet blustery and grey again today and as the ground is now completely saturated it is gently snaking off down hill in pursuit of the sea. This has now gone on for a while, in fact it is a period of time that one could almost call unnatural which means that something unnatural must be happening and therefore there is one very simple explanation. So I feel I need to tell you all what is happening, you see Britain is being prepared for invasion by the Toad People from the Planet Todimimiun 3 who have their spacecraft hidden behind the moon even as I type…..   O yes that explains that rather strange large moon last night, they are just making sure that none of us Brits notice.

And it is no good thinking its OK the rest of the world will come to our rescue because, for one reason and another us Brits are not entirely the most popular nation in the world. Well lets face it some of the folk in positions of power have in the past not been entirely nice to other nations to put it mildly, what with delusions of empire and being better than everyone else.  So it is very likely that the rest of the world may see the sacrifice of Britain as a small price to pay in order to avoid all out war with the alien Toad people from  Todimimiun 3, well folk don’t like touching a small cute toad, yet alone a ten foot tall toad called Brian….

AH yes this brings us to an interesting point told to me by Mr Jones the Alien hunter, it appears all the Toad People are called Brian a name picked to lull us Brits into a false sense of security. No one is going to believe that something called Brian is going to harm them even if it is ten feet tall and has just swallowed their cat.  And this brings us to yet another point, you see on the television tonight is the start of the BBC stargazing live programme where they will go out of their way to insist that there is no such thing as the Toad People from the Planet Todimimiun 3.  And who is the person who will dismiss this theory as ludicrous madness, but none other than Professor BRIAN Cox . . . . . . . Yes note the name I think this says it all, the Professor is in cahoots with the Toad People or worse than that . . . . .  is one of the toad people.

Just look at the drawing of these Aliens which Mr Jones was able to do while out in the woods, that chirpy smile the enthusiastic sparkly eyes, the trendy shoes and the antennae, who does this remind us of . . . . . . Well none other than the Professor  . . .  Professor Brian Cox . . . . . . . . . . I rest my case and suggest we all take to the hills.

You may laugh and say I’m mad, but you just wait till you see a large toad in your bath you wont laugh then………………..  

The Return of Sunday's Past, IKEA and things that go Bleep at Christmas

Sundays here are starting to return to the way Sundays used to be a long time ago, part of this is due to the fact it is dark damp and cold at this time of year so no one likes leaping out into the day much. OK Mr Jones will, the slightest hint of an alien invasion force from a far distant planet with huge terrifying battle machines, the like of man has yet to conceive and he is out in the woods, naked and running about with his I AM YOUR FRIEND sign. But he is an exception, most folk are keeping their heads down and at present are thinking O my god its December what I am I going to get everyone for Christmas.

Actually while on that subject . . . .   O my god its December what I am I going to get everyone for Christmas.

Here is cyberspace you would think that Sundays would be much like any other day, but no it has also become very quiet in the murky world of social media on Sunday, although I can’t see why that should happen. Maybe my greatest fear has been realized; the entire world’s population has gone to IKEA or as Mr Jones likes to call it . . . . . The flimsy facade of aliens in a cunning plan to take over planet Earth.  . . . . . Yes he is convinced those little allen keys are in fact eggs that contain a small creature that will bore into your head and that will be the end of you. Well provided you pass the alien intelligent test first, the building of flat pack furniture, you see they plan to enslave all the less intelligent folk who fail the test, who will then become dinner.  . . . . it is a lose lose situation so best just to buy G plan  . . . . OOOOOOoooo hang on no Mr Jones says aliens . . .

While on the subject of Christmas and panic I don’t know if it is just me but once upon a time something new would turn up at Christmas something interesting that would keep us all interested. Like Steam Powered Goldfish, The Clockwork Invisible Man, Make your own Luminous Barrel Organ or a chemistry set that would make foaming pink stuff that could talk Swedish and ate pencils or even a humble reproduction 1950’s robot that would walk a short distance spin its head a bit then fall over. However today none of these things are available if you go hunting the vast voids of cyberspace for ideas for Christmas it seems to consist of the latest touch screen phone or the latest touch screen iPad thing or a games console. This is not what we want when it comes to the crunch what we want (well us chaps anyway) is a thing with wheels and gears and things we can unscrew and tinker with, and hissing noises and little motors. You would think with all the technology about these days someone would make a nice smallish not too expensive thing that did nothing useful, but sort of whizzed and chirped and looked like it was designed in the Victorian era. . . . . . . Hang on that sounds like me……..

Knitted Beasts and Alien Hunters

It is wet today very wet and not really warm either so all in all it is not a nice day and not a lot is going on, much like last night where after I had returned from fighting off Banshees, Zombies and various Monsters with pointy sticks I was expecting at least one trick or treat visitor. I know it does not sound like a lot but as we live out in the sticks sort of protected by a large Zombie defence ditch and of course there was Mr Jones, alien hunter to the stars (alien . . . Stars . . . . .  HA HHAH AH HAH HAH HAhha ha ha haha hah ah ha ha) who was prowling about in a green alien suit in the woods shouting I AM YOUR FRIEND TAKE ME YOU LEADER……. Although someone in the village thought he said fiend rather than friend so started throwing turnips at anything that moved , including Guy who was dressed as a Fox (GUY FOX . . . AH HAHAHHH HAH HAH AHh ha ha hah ah ah) who then got chased by men on horses wearing rubbish Halloween costumes. 

Resulting in no visitors at all last night; last year a skeleton and his mum made it through the darkness of the night, woods, ditches, and electric fences so we did make sure we had treats to give people this year. I had even made sure they were inside little knitted beasts in order to maintain continuity with my diary, I guess this means I will have to eat them all myself  . . . . . . . AH DAMN . . . HAH HAHAH HAHh ahh ah ah hh hah hah hha ha ha ha  . . . .  I mean the treats not the knitted beasts, they will be locked away in the shed again until next year despite their little squeaks and squeals of protest  . . . . . . . .HAH HA AH HHA HHAH HAH AH HA HAH HA HAH AH HAH HA HAH HAH AH HA HAH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

.

Aliens, clouds, spies, curry and vineyards

 You can always tell that you might be standing next to spies when one man in a raincoat and designer sunglasses reading the Times newspaper says . . . . . The gazelles are not happy pushing the supermarket trolleys in the mud. And then another man in a raincoat with designer sunglasses reading the Times newspaper says  . . . . .  The bicycle has climbed the tree in the wood again, I will light the fire. . . .  I did add . . . The Seagulls are less active when the Queen sings. But I was told seagulls are very old school and no modern spy fresh from the headphones of GCHQ would even know what a seagull was these days, now we have the internet and stuff.

Anyway other than encounters with spies and a small grumpy alien who refused to abducted Mr Jones on the grounds that he was naked yet again and  that they had already adducted him three times this year; and really knew as much as they needed to know about him, not a lot has happened today. Oooooo yes I might have seen a pirate or it may have been a duck, sometimes if things move fast the mind will change the things to a more suitable object to fit in with the situation, like for example seeing a tap dancing crow holding a ice cream on the Eiffel tower . . . in a cloud above the house while digging a hole with a pickaxe.

Mr F is with us for the weekend and we went off to a vineyard to drink hot chocolate and discuss cheese. It was a very nice vineyard just the other side of Churchstoke and they we right in the middle of their main harvest, I don’t drink wine which explains the hot chocolate.  I also continued to dig my new hole with the pickaxe although it started to rain from an interesting looking cloud which stopped that in its tracks as they say . . . Yes a hole does not make tracks, so not an ideal saying really.  And we have been for a curry in Monty with Mr F which was good.

And really that is about it I think.

Ooooooo some folk are doing a jigsaw as I am typing this by the way and I am also drinking tea.

More events of unimportance

I have been rather lazy today, although this morning I did go and see the doc who reckons I am still sane but my joints are rubbish and tells me I will never run the 100 metres in less that 10 seconds ever again which is good news. Then my plans to go outside were sort of scuppered by drizzle and a grey sky, which is quite a contrast to last night when the sky here was crystal clear for the Meteor shower. It was very impressive although shouting there’s one does not work because it takes too long to say even if you try and say it very very fast or just say T O or even just T. Shouting just T is not a good idea either as voices in the dark started shouting For good sake get him a cup of Tea we are trying to sleep. . . .  

So back to today, I attached a new light fitting to the ceiling in the end in order to be productive and then I decided to use the computer to tweak my artists impression of a meteor shower. Mr Jones said he did not watch the meteor shower as it was in fact a cunning distraction tactic used by aliens to distract the public and that we need to watch The Day of the Triffids, I did a rather good re-enactment of that film once so I can understand his point.

Anyway I have some arty things I need to do so I may vanish off now and do the arty things of which I am sort of briefly passing over in a non descriptive veil of vagueness in order to imply mystery and excitement. It is an interesting fact that us humans always think that the thing we cant see or get too or have is far more interesting and exciting than they really are, although in this particular case that is not true as it is far more interesting and exciting than you think it is (I think).

Ooooo just as a small passing point I dreamt we had twelve cats last night; I know this because I woke up thinking this lot is going to cost a fortune to feed. I just hope Zombie defence systems work on cats although dad says they don’t and I will probably turn into a Zombie Cat and eat the brains of small rodents……..